


snowfall

by pearlilly



Series: seasons [6]
Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, fallon being awkward as hell, i realized that kirby's probably never seen snow before, just ridiculous fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22594285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlilly/pseuds/pearlilly
Summary: in which Fallon and Kirby experience a snow day.
Relationships: Kirby Anders & Fallon Carrington, Kirby Anders/Fallon Carrington
Series: seasons [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512317
Comments: 21
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

Fallon woke up around 11am on New Year’s Day, a little disoriented and confused as to why she wasn’t in her bed like she usually was. Blinking the sleepiness away, she sat up a little and looked around. She found that she was still wearing her sequined outfit, only she was tangled up on the sofa with Kirby, who had smudged lipstick marks all over her lips and forehead. The previous night’s events came flooding back to her in a warm rush, making goosebumps rise on her arms until she had to rub them away with her palms. 

Fallon carefully unwound Kirby’s arms from around her waist, taking care not to wake her. She’d given the staff an extended vacation - there just wasn’t any need to have them all there just for her and Kirby - so there was no one there to catch them, and as such there was no need to rouse her just yet. She eased herself to her feet and quietly tiptoed out of the room, thankful that the towering stilettos she’d worn the night before had ended up in a spiky heap by the fireplace and couldn’t _clack_ on the floor to disturb Kirby from her slumber.

Once she was out of the room - and safely out of earshot - she took a moment to go upstairs and change out of the tight, sequined dress and into a pair of peach silk pajamas that Kirby had once complimented. Her hands shook a little as she wet a washcloth with micellar water and tried to wipe smudged eyeliner and lipstick stains from her face.

“It’s just Kirby,” she told herself sternly, gripping one side of the sink in each hand and staring at herself in the mirror. “Relax.”

Taking another deep breath, she turned and left her bedroom. Rather than go back down the back stairs that led to the living room, she took the main staircase that exited into the foyer, then rounded the corner into the kitchen. 

As she brewed coffee and warmed croissants and pain au chocolat, she couldn’t help but think about last night. The memories felt light and fizzy and giddy, as though the champagne they’d sipped had somehow seeped right into them. 

* * *

After their midnight kiss, Kirby had insisted on another glass - or three - of champagne and then putting on music and waltzing Fallon around the living room.

“Why are we doing this, again?” Fallon had asked. Kirby's steps were awkward - she didn’t have the formal finishing school ballroom training that Fallon did, but she didn’t feel the need to one-up her this time. 

Kirby’s brow had furrowed as she tried to tug Fallon into a box step - she kept insisting on leading - and she shushed her rather than answer. “I’m _trying_ to be romantic, here.”

Fallon bit back a smile as Kirby pulled back in an exaggerated swoop and twirled her once, twice, three times until Fallon lost her balance and landed in a dizzy, giggling heap on the sofa. 

“Get _up!”_ Kirby had whined, crossing over to her. “We’re not done!”

Fallon had held out her hands to be helped up, but when Kirby reached for them, she’d instead yanked the girl down on top of her so she tumbled into her lap. She’d struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, staring at Fallon with mock annoyance and puffing out air to free the wisps of red hair that had gotten in her mouth. 

“You’re not funny,” Kirby had huffed, but the smile playing across her face betrayed her true feelings on the matter. She’d leaned in to press her lips to Fallon’s, and so they’d remained for the rest of the night, the waltzing matter quite forgotten, though the Debussy that Kirby had chosen continued to play.

* * *

The faint _ding_ of the toaster oven roused Fallon from her thoughts, and she blushed a little in spite of herself as she realized she’d been standing in front of the counter for several minutes with a dreamy, dopey smile on her face. She rushed to pile the pastries and coffees on their usual tray, making sure she had it balanced right before continuing into the living room. 

Despite the dim morning light caressing her face through the windows, Kirby was still curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. Fallon set the tray on the marble coffee table and nestled back in beside her. 

“Kirby,” she whispered, lightly running her hand over her arm. 

She really hadn’t spoken loudly enough for her to hear, so she wasn’t surprised when the redhead barely stirred. 

“Kirby,” she tried again, louder this time. When she still didn’t stir, she reached out and pressed her pointer finger into the tip of Kirby’s nose. _“Booop.”_

Kirby’s eyelids fluttered, and after a moment she was blinking herself awake. Her face held the same confusion that Fallon’s had when she’d woken up, and she pushed herself up on her elbows to look around and get her bearings. “We fell asleep in the living room?”

“Sure did,” Fallon replied, leaning in to kiss her forehead. She could feel a warm smile spreading over her face as she looked at Kirby, her eyes still puffy with sleep. There was something incredibly endearing about being with her while she was like this. “I made us our coffee and croissants. I figured we could eat them here.”

Kirby’s eyes brightened and she sat the rest of the way up, pulling a knit cashmere throw over her knees. “Did you get the newspapers?”

Fallon groaned in mock-disappointment. “I _knew_ I was forgetting something. They should be on the porch, I’ll just go grab them.”

Kirby had already located the pain au chocolat - her mouth was too full to respond. She just nodded and waved Fallon away. 

Fallon rolled her eyes good-naturedly and turned back to the hallway. Maybe it was just the bliss of finally getting to be with her like this, but she didn’t think she really minded doing things for Kirby. It was kind of nice to have someone to focus her attention on; someone to finally be the focus of the affection few people knew she was capable of. She really liked Kirby, and she was not about to fuck it up. 

Following the hallway to the foyer, Fallon stopped just before the table that took up most of the space. The light in the living room had looked a little odd, but she’d chalked it up to the weird UV protection on the expensive Pella windows Blake had installed after her little shooting tantrum last summer. Standing in the foyer now, though, she realized it wasn’t the windows; the light in here looked odd, too - stark and dim, not at all the warm gold that it usually was. 

Shaking her head and shivering a little - it felt awfully cold in the manor today - Fallon opened the front door to retrieve the papers, but was stopped by a sight she hadn’t seen in years. 

The sky was a cold grey - the source of the unusual light in the house - but even more striking, the grounds of the manor were covered with a dusting of snow. Fallon blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Snow in Atlanta was enough of a rarity already, but the temperature fluctuated so quickly that the ground wasn’t typically cold enough for it to stick. Yet here it was, coming down in big flakes, quickly covering the veranda and the front yard. Fallon picked up the copies of the _Atlanta Journal-Constitution_ and _Sydney Morning Herald_ that lay just in front of the doormat, thankful that they’d not gotten wet, and turned back into the house. 

Kirby was dumping hazelnut creamer into her coffee when she got back, the pain au chocolat she’d been eating reduced to crumbs that littered her front. 

“You took your time,” she teased, stirring carefully so as not to sling coffee onto the table. 

“Sorry,” Fallon replied, placing the papers beside the tray and settling down beside her. She picked up a china plate and set about picking the toastiest croissant. 

Kirby reached down and adjusted her throw, unfolding it and tucking the excess over Fallon’s knees. “What kept you?”

“I got distracted,” Fallon admitted, trying and failing to stifle the smile that came as Kirby fussed over the blanket. “It’s not every day it snows in Atlanta, it took me a minute to even believe that it was real.”

Kirby had taken a long pull from her coffee, but her eyes lit up at Fallon’s words and she very nearly choked on it. _“What?”_

“It’s snowing,” Fallon repeated. “Sticking, too. It looks like it’s already about an inch deep, and it’s still coming down.” There was a look of unbridled joy dominating Kirby’s face, and Fallon couldn’t help but make a little mirthful sound as she looked at her. “What’s so exciting about that?”

“I’ve never seen snow before, Fallon,” Kirby said slowly, enunciating each word as though she were trying to explain a very simple concept to someone particularly dense. 

Fallon felt her smile slip for a moment - of course she hadn’t. The last time it had snowed had been when Fallon was a teenager - long after Kirby had been sent back to Australia. 

“Can we move to the sunroom?” Kirby asked. She was seemingly oblivious to the shift in Fallon’s mood, and the sweet little spark of hope in her voice made her sound about ten years younger than she actually was. “So I can watch it?”

“It’ll be cold in there,” Fallon said dubiously. She didn’t want to shoot the girl down, but the all-glass construction in the room meant it was pretty poorly insulated. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Oh _no.”_ Kirby rolled her eyes. “It’ll be cold and I might have to cuddle with my girlfriend to stay warm, how _ever_ will I survive?”

The word ‘girlfriend’ rolled off of Kirby’s tongue so easily that Fallon could hardly believe it, but she didn’t react - there’d be plenty of time to lay awake and stare at the ceiling and unpack her feelings about that later tonight. Instead, she pulled the cashmere throw off of their laps and nodded to Kirby’s skimpy tank top and thin pajama pants.

“Go get a pair of silk pajamas out of my drawer, you’ll be way too cold in that. I’ll move everything to the sunroom.”

Kirby brightened at this suggestion - Fallon was notoriously possessive over her clothes, so the offer was a particularly rare one. She hopped up from the couch and started up the stairs as soon as she was instructed to do so, as if she was worried that Fallon might change her mind.

Fallon started to gather their newspapers, but another thought occurred to her when Kirby was halfway up the stairs. 

“You can bring Montgomery, too, if you like!” She called, projecting her voice at Kirby’s retreating back.

Kirby stopped, turning to face her. “Really?” Fallon had mocked the ragged stuffed wombat on more than one occasion. 

Fallon shrugged, tucking the papers under her elbow and looping the throw over her arm so she could pick up the coffee tray. “Well, he’s never seen snow before, either.”

Kirby just smiled, turning away and practically skipping up the landing. 

In her absence, Fallon carted everything into the sunroom, setting the tray on the table where she and Kirby had begun their coffee and croissant tradition last fall. She shivered a little in spite of herself - although the snow outside was starting to collect on the trees and shrubs in a beautiful, lacy pattern, the glass walls meant it really was as cold in there as she’d been expecting. 

Fallon laid the papers on the table beside the tray, but the longer she stood in the sunroom, the more apparent it became that the thin cashmere throw she’d brought would not be sufficient to keep them both warm. Sighing, and kicking herself a little for agreeing to this so easily, she turned and padded back down the hallway and up the stairs to her room. The quilts in her cedar chest had served as a good place to hide Kirby’s presents while she sorted out her feelings, but maybe it was time to actually use them for their intended purpose.

Fully focused on getting a blanket, Fallon had completely forgotten she’d sent Kirby up to her room to change. The sight of the redhead standing in front of her mirror, wearing a pair of her silk pajama pants that barely reached her ankles and struggling to button up the long-sleeved shirt, was enough to stop her in her tracks.

Kirby saw Fallon in the mirror and blushed. “You could’ve knocked.”

Fallon felt her own cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I… I came to get a…”

“A peek?” Kirby supplied, a teasing tone to her voice. She turned around to face Fallon, having only managed the lowermost button on her shirt. Fallon’s eyes strayed from her face without her meaning for them to, but thankfully Kirby just laughed. “If you’re going to just stand there you could at least help me out.”

Fallon nodded, her throat suddenly feeling tight. As she crossed the few steps to Kirby, she realized why she’d been having such trouble - the pajamas she’d chosen were a pair that had flower shaped buttons, which made them especially irksome to work through the buttonholes. 

“I don’t even know why I bought these,” she sighed, trying to find something to say that might break the tension. She reached for Kirby, hands only shaking a little bit as she fastened the next button. 

“I like them,” Kirby shrugged. She was picking up on Fallon’s awkwardness, but it didn’t read as disinterest - quite the opposite. She was having to make a concerted effort not to smirk, pleased that she had such a noticeable effect on the girl.

Fallon had gone quiet again, her fingers accidentally brushing against the skin of Kirby’s sternum as she worked on the next button. A rush of goosebumps raised across her skin and down her stomach, which Fallon found extremely gratifying. 

It was the work of minutes to get Kirby all buttoned up the rest of the way, but the entire time, Fallon’s mind was wandering - specifically, to how much better it might be to _unbutton_ her instead. 

_“Thank you,”_ Kirby said dramatically when she finished, hugging herself. She grabbed Montgomery from where she’d tossed him on Fallon’s bed, then laced her fingers together with Fallon’s. “Let’s go, I wanna see the snow.”

“Wait.” Fallon let go of her hand to throw open the cedar chest and rifle through it, finally surfacing with a tasteful lavender and cream quilt that had once belonged to Alexis. “Okay, _now_ we can go.”

Kirby squeezed Fallon’s hand and all but dragged her down the stairs. As soon as she crossed the threshold into the sunroom, she shivered, hugging Montgomery to her chest. “It’s cold--” she began, but she caught sight of the snow falling outside. Forgetting her previous thought, she squealed and bounded over to the window, immediately pressing her nose to the glass.

Fallon chuckled, picking up their coffee mugs and joining Kirby at the window. 

“Here.” She offered Kirby her mug, and the other woman took it without taking her eyes off of the scene in front of her. Fallon set her mug on the windowsill and unfolded the quilt, draping one end around Kirby’s shoulders and the other around herself. After a moment of indecision, she wrapped an arm around Kirby’s waist and hugged her close. 

“It’s so _pretty,”_ Kirby said dreamily, sighing and resting her head on Fallon’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, it is,” Fallon agreed, but she wasn’t looking at the snow. 

“I wish it could be like this all the time,” Kirby murmured, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“What do you mean?”

“I just kind of like the idea of being snowed in all day with my girlfriend.”

There was that word again, but it didn’t ignite the panic in Fallon’s chest that she’d been expecting. Instead, she just felt a flood of warmth.

“We don’t get a lot of snow,” Fallon admitted gently, after a moment.

“Then we’ll just have to make today perfect,” Kirby reasoned. “Later I want to make a snow angel. And build a snowman. And an igloo."

Fallon knew that there likely wouldn’t be enough snow to do much more than the snow angel, but Kirby’s wishes were so simple and so _her_ that she couldn’t bring herself to rain on her parade. “We can do whatever you want, Kirb.”

“Promise?”

Fallon laughed lightly, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of Kirby’s head, surprised and comforted by how familiar the action felt already. “Promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

Keeping Kirby occupied while the snow accumulated outside was proving to be more difficult than Fallon had anticipated. She’d set out their tray and newspapers, thinking that they would sit together and wait until the snowfall stopped, but Kirby was restless. She squirmed, crossing and uncrossing her legs and continually getting up and carrying Montgomery over to the window to press her nose against the glass. 

It had started out being amusing, even endearing, but on the third trip to the window, Kirby brushed by Fallon a little too closely and accidentally knocked her newspaper out of her hands. Fallon couldn’t stop a small sigh from escaping her lips as the pages scattered across the floor. 

Kirby turned around to face her, sheepishly letting the hand that held Montgomery drop to her side. 

“...Sorry,” she mumbled, gathering and refolding the strewn newspaper and handing it back to Fallon. 

Her expression was so abashed that Fallon immediately felt her aggravation melt away. “No, it’s okay,” she assured her, patting the sofa beside her to signal Kirby to sit back down. “I know you’re excited. It’s actually pretty cute.”

“...You think I’m cute?” Kirby teased, tossing her hair. 

Fallon rolled her eyes. “Well, I _did.”_

Kirby grinned and crossed back over to Fallon to settle in beside her. She carefully tucked Montgomery between her knee and the arm of the settee before reaching for her coffee. 

“You’re very sweet to set all this up. And thank you for letting me borrow the pajamas. I’ve always liked these.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry they don’t fit better.”

“Not your fault you’re vertically challenged,” Kirby said lightly, leaning out of reach when Fallon went to swat her shoulder. 

Fallon watched Kirby sip her coffee and open her newspaper, hesitating for a moment before casually slinging an arm over her shoulders. Surprised by the rare show of affection, Kirby inhaled sharply, choking on the sip of coffee in her mouth but quickly regaining her composure. Fallon chose to act like it hadn’t happened, instead just drawing Kirby in a little closer and kissing her temple.

“That’s better,” she murmured, again reaching for her coffee and newspaper. 

Kirby cautiously sat back, trying her best to play it off like she hadn’t been as spooked by the sudden attention as she really was. She sipped her coffee and thumbed through her copy of the _Sydney Morning Herald -_ she still hadn’t figured out just how Fallon had managed to get the paper delivered every morning - staring at the articles for an appropriate amount of time, but the words entered her eyes and stopped short of registering in her brain. Her gaze kept straying to the snowflakes dancing outside the window, but if Fallon noticed, she didn’t comment on it a second time. 

Fallon turned her paper over to the back page, her eyes automatically scanning to look for her business column. It seemed like it moved lower every week, and she was sure the paper would be calling any day to tell her they’d dropped it to the online-only edition, if not given it the kiss of death completely. 

She wanted to be annoyed by it - she spent a lot of time working on her articles, keeping immaculate AP format and painstaking citations, and maybe once upon a time the _AJC_ ’s indifference would have bothered her, but the article had felt like less of a passion and more of a nuisance these days. She didn’t have a lot of other projects to be doing besides the occasional consult on the _Atlantix,_ but the usual itching desire to be working hadn’t found its way back to her yet. She was suddenly much more okay with taking more time for her personal life than she had before, even if she did still find it difficult to let go of her insane need to control everything. 

Kirby shifted beside her, letting her head drop down to rest on her shoulder; the action snapping Fallon out of her thoughts. She could feel the tension in Kirby’s muscles slowly starting to release as they sat, and was once again filled with the lightness that always came when she was near. It was odd to think that Kirby could have such an effect on her, but the truth of that fact was indisputable. That was why she was so okay with not working so much - she’d been spending as much time as she could with Kirby, even before things had changed between them. She liked her company.

Sitting here with her now, though, she was starting to realize that her control issues were already seeping into their tentative new relationship - making Kirby wear her pajamas, even if it was well-intentioned; gathering the tray of croissants without even asking Kirby if that was what she wanted for breakfast; her easy exasperation at Kirby’s fucking _joy_ at seeing snow for the first time. Even now, glancing over at her, she could see that Kirby’s eyes were still wandering towards the window, tracking the snowflakes as they continued to come down. She knew Kirby had to be dying to go back to the window, but hadn’t, because Fallon had been such a bitch about it. What kind of person did that make her, if she begrudged the one person she was sure she cared about such a simple pleasure?

Feeling her face grow hot with unease, Fallon tersely folded the paper and cast it aside. Kirby lifted her head to look up at her, her gaze full of concern.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah,” Fallon replied, turning to her and looking at her as seriously as she could muster. “It’s snowing and we’re not outside in it.”

Kirby looked dubious. “...You want to? I figured I’d just go out in it later.”

Fallon scoffed. “And miss you playing in it for the first time? No way.”

“I don’t have any clothes that are snow-appropriate,” Kirby half-protested, but the look on her face had shifted into something much more hopeful and excited than Fallon had seen before.

Before the redhead could say anything else, Fallon’s hands had already drifted to her pajama top, her fingers starting to unfasten the flower-shaped buttons. “I’m sure we’ll find you something.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Kirby was bundled up in one of Fallon’s bulkier cashmere sweaters, a wool beanie, an old North Face jacket of Steven’s that Fallon had found, and a pair of Blake’s ski pants. Fallon’s were even shorter on Kirby than the pajama pants had been, making their height difference even more glaring - a fact which she was trying not to be too put out about. Fallon had on a silk thermal blouse, a pair of Under Armour pants, and her own North Face, skipping a hat because she knew that it’d make her hair unbearably frizzy. Both girls had their own pair of Uggs and some odd mittens that Fallon had located in the dustier part of the coat closet. 

As Fallon adjusted her hair, Kirby lurked by the doorway, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Are you ready yet?” She asked yet again, impatiently tugging at the cuffs of her mittens. 

“Almost,” Fallon replied. She pulled a tube of lip balm out of her pocket and swiped it on, then turned to Kirby. “Now I am.”

Kirby eyed her slyly, leaning in and quickly kissing the lip balm off before Fallon had a chance to react. 

Fallon sputtered, wiping away the kiss with the back of her hand and glaring at Kirby. “Thief.” 

“I can’t bear to watch you primp anymore,” Kirby groaned. She took the tube of lip balm out of Fallon’s hand, stopping her from reapplying it. “We’re literally just going to the _backyard.”_

With that, and without waiting for another reply, she grabbed Fallon by the elbow and dragged her outside. 

* * *

The snow had deepened quite a bit since Fallon had stepped out on the porch to gather their newspapers, and as the girls stepped out onto the back veranda, they both had to stop for a moment to fully take in what they were seeing. 

The peach trees that lined the back of the estate were covered in fresh powder, their branches and few remaining leaves outlined in a way that made them look like shimmering filigree. A few occasional flakes were continuing to fall, but a cold winter sun shone through the clouds so that the effect of the glittering white wonderland that awaited them was almost too dazzling to behold. 

_“Wow.”_ Kirby’s words were punctuated by a cloud of vapor as she exhaled, but the frigid air outside wasn’t seeming to have as much of an effect on her as Fallon had anticipated.

Fallon nodded, completely taken by the sheer awe in Kirby’s voice. “So what do you think?” she asked, reaching up to tug at the pompom on her beanie. 

“It’s beautiful,” Kirby said decisively. She stepped forward, reaching a hand up to run a finger across the line of icicles that had formed along one of the eaves. The shards of ice freed themselves with the slightest amount of pressure, shattering on the floor with a sound like broken glass. 

Fallon was quiet for a moment, watching Kirby take it all in with endearing childlike wonder. Coming out here had been the right thing to do. 

After a few more moments, she tentatively reached for Kirby’s hand. “You wanna go?”

Kirby nodded, and Fallon led her carefully down the back stairs and into the backyard, taking care to watch her step. The snow wasn’t as deep as it looked - maybe four inches, tops - but it was more than Atlanta usually saw, and definitely more than Kirby had ever seen. 

“I don’t know where to start,” Kirby admitted.

“Do you wanna build a snowman?” Fallon asked.

 _“‘Come on, let’s go and plaaaay,’”_ Kirby sang.

Fallon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “...What?”

“You-- you asked if I wanted to build a snowman.”

“Yeah?”

Kirby was now eyeing her a bit more reproachfully than Fallon preferred. “Like in _Frozen?”_

“Oh,” Fallon shrugged. “I never saw it.”

“Disappointing,” Kirby sniffed. “But yes, let’s build a snowman.”

Fallon nodded, knowing that a mandatory viewing of the movie was most likely in her near future. “Okay, let’s start over there.” She pointed to a dip in the yard where a fountain had once stood. “The snow might be a little deeper there, that’ll make it easier.” Realizing that she’d once again given an order without even thinking about it, she cleared her throat and tried to soften her voice into something a little less commanding. “If you want, I mean.”

“No, that’s a good idea,” Kirby agreed, oblivious to Fallon’s continuous inner dialogue. She tightened her grip on Fallon’s hand, and together they trudged to the area that Fallon had indicated. 

“How do we even start?” Kirby asked. She shivered a little, turning up the collar on her jacket. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” Fallon admitted. “And even then I only made a couple when we’d go on vacation to Vail. Steven was always the architect. I think you just start by making a snowball and rolling it on the ground until it’s big enough.”

Kirby nodded and set about carefully packing snow into a ball. Fallon turned away, pulling out her phone to take a quick picture of the frosted peach orchard to post to Instagram, when suddenly she felt a stinging slap against her scalp followed by a wet coldness - Kirby had pelted her with her snowball. 

Fallon let out a yelp and rubbed the spot, turning to face her.

_“Kirby!”_

Before she could react further, Kirby scampered over to her, already looking apologetic. She grabbed Fallon and tugged her hat off, smothering the damp spot in her hair with kisses. 

“I’m sorry! You were right there, I couldn’t resist!” 

Fallon even surprised herself by laughing instead of scolding, whirling around to face her.

“It’s okay,” she teased. “I should apologize to you, too,”

Kirby looked confused. “What? Why?”

“For _this.”_

Fallon put her hands on Kirby’s shoulders and tackled her, straddling her hips and driving her fingers into her ribs. Kirby shrieked, kicking her legs against the snowy ground and struggling against her so hard that her hat fell off, but Fallon had her pinned. 

“Nooo!!” 

“You said you wanted to make a snow angel,” Fallon said calmly, heedless of the hysterical giggles she was eliciting from the other woman. “Lay back and make one.”

Kirby let out a growl and pressed her hands against Fallon’s shoulders, flipping them over so she was on top. 

_“Now_ what are you gonna do?” Kirby teased. She brushed her fingers against Fallon’s ribs, and Fallon could feel goosebumps rising on her skin even through her jacket. 

_“This.”_ Fallon stretched up and kissed Kirby hard. She squeaked and laced her fingers into the brunette’s hair, kissing her back equally hard and leaning back so Fallon could prop herself up on her elbows. 

After a minute, Fallon eased Kirby back in her lap so she could sit all the way up and wrap her arms around her. They sat for another long moment, so wrapped up in each other that they were completely oblivious to the snow falling around them. 

When they finally broke apart, Fallon reached out and tucked a strand of Kirby’s hair behind her ear. The redhead’s eyes were bright and smiling, but her nose and cheeks were starting to turn pink from cold. Fallon was just about to comment on it when, as if on cue, Kirby shivered and cuddled closer to her. 

“You cold?” Fallon asked, rubbing her hands over Kirby’s upper arms to try and warm her up.

“N-no,” Kirby replied, blushing as her teeth chattered around the lie. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

“You wanna go inside?” Fallon asked, careful to phrase it as a question.

Kirby thought for a moment, then nodded. “We can always come back out later, right?”

“Whatever you want,” Fallon promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I took forever to finish this but in my defense I was moving! 
> 
> Thank you to Sarah for beta reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> this one will likely be split into two short chapters kind of like the previous one. it's pure fluff this time though so nothing to worry about there :)
> 
> thank you to Sarah for beta reading :)


End file.
